


Hotline | Tim Wright x Reader

by Snapfang



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Comfort, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Other, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pre-Relationship, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapfang/pseuds/Snapfang
Summary: You wake up because of a thunderstorm at 2 AM, only to find out Tim has tried to call you 13 times. You figure it's urgent.
Relationships: Masky (Creepypasta)/Reader, Masky/Reader, Timothy "Tim" W. | Masky/You, Timothy "Tim" W./You, Timothy "Tim" Wright | Masky & Original Character(s), Timothy "Tim" Wright/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	Hotline | Tim Wright x Reader

You didn’t exactly refer to yourself as a light sleeper, but the thunderstorm raging outside was loud enough to wake you up with a bang. The flashes of lightning illuminated your room once every few seconds, as the rain clattered loudly against your window. Even if you could tune out the noises of the wind and rain, the roaring thunder and flashing lights were a lot more difficult to ignore.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, rubbing your eyes. You had not been sleeping well to begin with, your mind being the one to keep you up. You really did not need the elements to work against you as well.

This wasn’t going to work. Maybe with a bit of luck the storm would pass in a bit, or maybe you’d eventually pass out downstairs. You sleepily shoved your feet into your pair of fluffy slippers, popping your back before heading downstairs. Maybe some warm milk would help. And hell, you could add a shot of Bailey’s. You deserved a treat.

As you made your way through the living room to get to the kitchen, you noticed the screen of your phone flash. That’s odd, you had missed calls? You couldn’t recall having any before heading to bed. Probably some scammer trying his luck at a late hour... at least you hoped so.

You were wrong. Thirteen missed calls from a number you recognized as Tim’s. Shit. Didn’t he mentioned being mixed up in some shit lately? You didn’t put it past him to call you over the police, the bloody idiot. With shaking hands, you pressed the numbers on your phone and pressed call.

Tim picked up almost immediately. You couldn’t help but let out a shivery sigh. He wasn’t dead, at least, thank fuck. “Christ, Tim, I- how is- are you alright?” you stumbled over your words, desperate to find out what the hell was going on. “I... uhm... yeah, I’m fine.”

If the blatant hesitance wasn’t enough to make you doubt that, his tone of voice sure as hell was. He barely spoke above what could be considered a whisper, his voice sounded scratchy, and he sounded so, so tired.

“Tim, I...” You interrupted your sentence with a sigh as you started pacing through your living room. “Why are you so desperate to call me? It’s-” You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the time. “It’s 2.18 in the morning. Hell, it’s night. Did you do something? Whatever it is, I can help, but-”

“(Y/N)! Nothing is going on. I’m fine, okay?” Tim raised his voice at you, interrupting your rambling. You paused, standing still as you waited for him to continue. “I just- I don’t know... I don’t know, okay?”

There it was again. That tiredness in his voice, the scratchiness... He probably meant he was doing alright physically, because he sounded like utter shit. “When was the last time you slept..?” You broke the small silence with your question, moving to sit down on the couch.

“I thi-” He paused, his sentence interrupted by an aggressive coughing fit. “I think three days ago...” You swallowed, deciding not to respond. Something probably did happen. But it was probably best if Tim just got to talk for now. “Things just- The nightmares are back, and some stuff went down with Jay, and I... God...”

You could hear his voice crack, then a brief silence. “I called you because I... I need someone right now. I need you. I need- I needed to hear your voice.”

You bit your bottom lip, before straightening your back. Clearly you needed to be there for him right now. “It’s okay, Tim. I’m here. Are you back in the area already or are you still, well- wherever you are?”

“Yeah... I’m not around... Can we just stay on the phone?”

“That’s okay.”

You were both quiet for a moment, Tim’s shaky breathing aside.

“Uhm.. So... Is it storming where you are at as well? It’s fucking crazy out here. The rain is just pouring out of the heavens, it’s surprisingly loud against the windows, too...”

Tim muttered to himself, something to do with hearing static, before replying. “No, it’s clear... Not good weather but, you know...” He scraped his throat. You could hear him shuffling around in his room. “I didn’t wake you up... right..?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “After thirteen tries? No, Zeus and his massive shitshow woke me up. You did, however, interrupt my booze hour. I was literally on my way to the damn kitchen.”

He huffed, but you could practically feel the stupid grin he was wearing on his face right now. “I thought you’re supposed to drink at 5 PM, not 2 in the morning...”

“You know better than that, c’mon. It’s always 5 PM somewhere.”

“Right, sorry. Haven’t been drinking much lately anyways.”

“Well, we can fix that once you’re back.”

He chuckled, causing you to grin as well. “Yeah, I uh, I hope I’ll be able to come over soon.” He quieted down, licking his lips. “I just really- I kinda wanna see you again, you know?”

Your grin turned into a warmer smile as you hugged your legs to your chest. “I miss you too.”

Tim swallowed thickly, and you could faintly hear the sound of him fumbling with some paper. “Yeah, I... yeah. So uh... didn’t you say you were going to check out that expo a while back? How was that?”

And so you stayed up for hours, you going off on little tangents about the day you had while he just asked questions and listened, the comfort of hearing your voice drowning out everything else. The operator didn’t matter. Alex didn’t matter. You were all that mattered. You were all he needed.

After two and a half hour of rambling, you paused, listening for his response. “Tim? You there?” The only response you got was the calm breathing from the other end of the line, the previous shakiness nowhere to be found. You smiled to yourself, wishing you were there to witness it.

“Goodnight, you idiot... love you.”


End file.
